I believe that in general, I try to be a positive, optimistic person (Maybe we should ask Jason to see if he agrees, though.). However, this week has been nothing less than horrific, and if this blog space for Connor to read in the future, and for anyone else to read today is going to be anything, it needs to be honest.
It all started last Friday with a very whiny, feverish boy. By Saturday morning we took him to be seen, and it was determined that he had strep. He was given a shot of penicillin and another antibiotic (azithromycin), and we were sent home.
By this time, he had developed canker-type sores all over the inside and outside of his mouth and lips. From Saturday on, he ate no more than 2-3 bites per day.
By Monday, he was no better; in fact, his fever was 102 by then (with Tylenol), so we took him back to the doctor, where he was given another shot of penicillin and sent home.
By Wednesday when he was still no better, the Children's Clinic called (They couldn't see him either of the first two visits.) and said that when his info. was faxed over from the other clinic, his dosage of azithromycin was much too low (2.5 mL). They upped it to 7 mL and Jason picked it up.
Late Wed. afternoon, we gave Connor the bigger dose of azithromycin, and within a short time, his eyes were swollen nearly shut, he was red in splotches on his face, and he started to cough. Obviously, we knew it was an allergic reaction, so we gave him Benadryl and rushed to the ER to be safe.
In the ER, he was given an IV with fluids (He had only peed once all that day.), and we were told that this had turned into a viral infection called herpetic stomatitis and we would just have to wait it out until the sores went away (possibly 10 days). We were then sent home.
By today (Friday), when he had still not eaten, we called Children's Clinic, and they advised us to head back to ER. We did so, and were met with a fabulous doctor and nurse, who were so thorough, kind, and understanding. The doctor called the pediatrician multiple times to consult during our visit, and we ended up with a stronger dosage of Tylenol (to give through a suppository so we wouldn't further hurt Connor's mouth) and an appointment in the morning to see the pediatrician to follow up.
I left feeling still sad for my boy, but relieved that we were maybe getting somewhere.
Once we got home and administered the medicine, Connor was the same for a bit: lethargic, whiny, and just pitiful overall. But then we saw a change: he perked up, asked for cereal (and ended up eating about 10 bites of banana and several of cereal), and even wanted to draw and paint. He played in the bath with his cars and shark, and even let us put some swabs of "magic mouthwash") on his sores without a fight.
This may seem ridiculous to some, but going from seeing him doing nothing but lay and cry for a week to this was a miracle to me.
I am so thankful for everyone who prayed for him, and especially for Jason. He has been my rock this week. He cooked dinner and breakfast several times when all Connor wanted me to do was hold him, and he has prayed for Connor for both of us when I didn't have the words. I can honestly say that even though this year's anniversary was under the worst circumstances we've ever had, there is no one else I'd rather spend good or bad times with than him.
However, during all this time with Connor, another tragedy struck, actually on our anniversary. One of best friends in the world, a bridesmaid in my wedding, and a girl I've known since before either of us can really remember, lost her sister in a most horrendous way. I am still waiting to wake up or for someone to jump out and say that it was all just a joke, but it isn't, and I am at a loss for what to do or say.
My heart is broken for my friend Elizabeth and her family, and I know only God's peace will get them through, but I feel helpless as a friend. It never even crossed my mind that this would be a chapter she or anyone I knew would ever have to endure.
This week has been filled with painful reminders of the depravity of the world in which we live and the God who is there to help us navigate it.
I do not believe in any way that God wanted Connor to be sick, and even more so I do not believe that God wanted what happened to sweet Sarah, and it hearts my heart when I hear such statements, even well-intentioned ones. However, I do believe that we can choose to allow these days to be (albeit painful) reminders of the preciousness of life.
I am remembering today to hug Connor even tighter, to play cars with him more often than I tell him to wait while I finish the laundry, to tell the people I love how much they mean, to make more time for my friends, to worry less about what other people think, and especially to remember that this world is not our home.